Fantasy Meets Reality
by Allaine
Summary: If you want to make an omelet, you're gonna have to break a few eggs. But if you want a happy ending, you're gonna have to break more than a Curse. Swan Queen?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fantasy Meets Reality (1/?)

Spoilers: All of Season One, except for the pink cloud. No pink cloud for you. This should be considered separate from "Be Our Guest" and "Never Had a Friend Like Me".

Disclaimers: All characters belong to, you know, ABC and the production company and the writers and so on. Nothing whatsoever belongs to me.

Rating: PG-13 (profanity, violence)

Summary: If you want to make an omelet, you're gonna have to break a few eggs. But if you want a happy ending, you're gonna have to break more than a Curse. Swan Queen?

* * *

The chains were, all things considered, not uncomfortably tight. She's bound and fastened securely to the lamppost, no question, but if it had been someone like Leroy instead of Ms. Swan doing the chaining, Regina thought she might have had trouble breathing.

Then again, the atmosphere was rather suffocating anyway. Now that the Curse had been broken, and everyone had regained their memories, the first thing on everyone's to-do list seemed to be vengeance. She felt smothered by the hate radiating her way.

At least it wasn't the apple tree like in her nightmare. Her backyard wouldn't have been feasible anyway. It's big but it's not _that_ big, and judging by the number of people on either side of her on Main Street, it wouldn't have held nearly enough space. In fact, it seemed quite possible that the entire population of Storybrooke is here, minus that goblin Rumpelstiltskin.

She wondered if Belle and the other patients had been released from the asylum yet. She wondered if Belle would be able to find the devil of her dreams. It gave her something to think about while she waited for the rabble to find one coherent voice to speak with.

That voice, unsurprisingly, is Charming. David. David Charming? Prince Nolan? Whatever.

"Everyone, calm down!" he shouted. "We need answers, but we won't get them if we can't hear her!"

Regina scoffed. The only questions these people wanted answered were "Where's the lighter fluid?" and "How long does it take to die after being shot in the gut?" That sobered her, but she wouldn't let anyone see it. She was glad Henry was still in the hospital. Maybe he still loved her, and maybe he didn't, but no ten year old should be permitted to see a woman's entrails spilling out of her stomach.

Actually, Ms. Swan was showing more worry on her face than Regina allowed herself to. This was one step away from a lynch mob, and Regina supposed the Sheriff realized that if the good townsfolk wanted a hanging, there was precious little she could do to stop them. Not with the gun currently fastened in her holster, and certainly not with the magic sword clutched in one hand.

"If you want answers, Mr. Nolan, I set up the 311 system for a reason."

"That's not my name, Your Majesty," Charming retorted.

"Well," she replied, shrugging, "nearly everyone here has two names. Forgive me for selecting the wrong one."

Her attitude was pissing him off, she could tell. Good. One point for her, in a game where she could hope to score precious few.

"Regina," Ms. Swan – all right, Emma, since it seemed everyone had gone back to using their old names, and she wasn't entirely sure what Emma's old last name WAS - said wearily. (Emma Charming? Emma White?) "Just tell them what they want to know."

"Don't you want to know too, Sheriff?" Emma looked away.

"You're not the one I have questions for."

That would likely be Snow, who seemed oddly content to let Charming do all the talking.

Regina sneered at them both. "Just shoot me, or skewer me, or whatever it is you plan on doing to me, and get it over with."

"_What?!_" Emma gasped, looking shocked. Perhaps she _hadn't_ realized then. "No one's being killed here!"

"Not yet, anyway," Grumpy muttered predictably.

Regina just looked at Emma. "You may want to ask my constituents a few questions too, Sheriff. About what their plans are for me, I mean."

"They want to go home," Emma told her.

"They all have perfectly nice homes right now."

"We want to go back to where we came from!" Grumpy snarled. "We want our happy endings back!"

She allowed the angry cries of agreement to wash over her for a few seconds before she couldn't hold it in any longer. Regina started laughing. Because really, it was all just too funny.

"What makes this so funny?!" Charming snapped as the shouting of the townsfolk died down in the face of her strident, mocking laughter. "For any of us, especially you, Regina."

She took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked directly at Grumpy with lips curled. "_What_ happy endings?" she asked disdainfully. "Yours, Leroy?" She chuckled. "Don't make me laugh – again."

"Look," the belligerent little man began to say.

"Some of you have earned the right to be . . . cross with me," Regina interrupted. "Snow White. Prince Charming. Emma. Jefferson. Gepetto. Abigail." She faltered briefly on the last name. The others, she wasn't sorry for what she had done, or she just didn't care. But she could, and did, feel regret over what she'd done to Princess Abigail, because she'd done it to Kathryn Nolan too. But she went on. "The rest of you, though, can just park your self-righteousness and leave me the HELL alone."

"Can you believe this?" Grumpy asked incredulously. "She won't even admit that what she did was wrong!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Leroy," Regina said, insisting on the name she'd given him just to aggravate him. "Did I ruin your beautiful relationship with Nova the fairy?"

That stopped whatever he would have said next. "Uh – well – "

She dismissed him, though, and looked at Archie Hopper. "Do you miss being an insect, Doctor?"

"No, not particularly," he said reluctantly, "but – "

"Or how about this, a show of hands," Regina said calmly. "How many of you could read and write before the Curse?"

That generated a lot of shocked murmurs and mutterings as a few hands, almost against their will, rose in the air.

"Oh, it's just a figure of speech," she sighed. "Still, not many of you, I bet. Why would you? There's no public educational system where we came from, and why would a bunch of peasants need to know?"

"Fairy Tale Land wasn't perfect – " Charming admitted.

"No, but you seem to think you had it better there," Regina shot back. "And I suppose a few of you did," she acknowledged slyly, looking pointedly at Snow and Charming. "How many of you lost a baby during childbirth?"

Suddenly you could have heard a pin drop.

"Of course. Prenatal care didn't exist. Granted, Cinderella's child was the first born in Storybrooke since the Curse began, but if you HAD been able to conceive previously, I'll bet you my house that the baby would have a much higher chance of survival at our fine medical establishment." She glanced at Emma. "Of course, your parents were blessed. Snow White was giving birth to the Savior. SHE didn't have to worry about infant mortality rates."

Emma glared at her. "Like your Curse was meant to look out for all the bereaved mothers out there."

Regina shrugged. "I suppose not. Still, why don't you look at their faces, and try to identify all the people who grieved over tiny graves behind their homes? Then you can ask them if they're happier now that they have those memories back."

Looking troubled, Emma didn't have a response this time.

"How many of you knew your own grandparents?" Regina asked, turning back to her thousands of would-be executioners. "Life expectancy wasn't so long back there, was it? How many of you kept all your teeth as you got older? Had a day off? Had indoor plumbing?" She looked right at Snow and Charming. "_How many people ever got to have a say in who would govern their lives?_"

"Like any of us had a choice voting for you?"

Snow picked an odd time to speak up, but Regina nodded at her. "True, but if any of you believes that the ruling class' first act after returning home will be to set up elections, you're deluding yourself. Even now all of you defer to your prince and princess." She glanced around. "I don't see King George, but I'll bet he's MOST excited about being bumped back up from district attorney to ruler by divine right."

"But those are just material things!" Snow replied. "What good is having it when you're not happy?"

"Just _things_," Regina said disbelievingly. "Maybe they were just things to a princess. And maybe you forgot what your life was like in the Enchanted Forest, little girl, but you can't deny the importance of a free education, modern medicine, democracy – "

"_And we still weren't happy_," Snow reminded her.

Regina shrugged. "Perhaps. But that's not what counts, is it? Face the facts, people. Most of you, I didn't take away your happy ending _because you had no happy ending for me to take_. Dead at fifty in a peasant's hovel with half your children already in the ground. For most of your parents, THAT was their ending.

"And you actually think going _back_ there will make you happy?" Her eyes swept around. "So none of you will mind giving up electricity. Or vaccinations. Toilet paper. Computers." She glanced at Emma. "I hate to break it to you, Sheriff Swan, but those jeans and that tacky red jacket? You won't be able to find them in a fairy tale."

She relished the look of horror she'd just put on Emma's face.

"If you really want your happy endings, stay here," Regina said calmly. "The Curse is broken. There's nothing stopping you from leaving Storybrooke. There's no magic spell keeping you from your dreams. This world I brought you to, isn't it supposed to be about 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness'? Well, you can't pursue it if you're running back to the Dark Ages. Honestly? In five years, you'll all be thanking me."

Regina would never know who threw it. She only knew that a glass beer bottle sailed out from somewhere in the crowd and landed directly on her head, shattering instantly. That, and that her last words had probably been pushing it. Everything else was lost in a flurry of screams and shouting and, mercifully, blackness.

* * *

When Regina finally regained consciousness, she found that her situation had improved in some ways, and declined drastically in others. Instead of being chained and upright, now she was lying in a hospital bed, both wrists handcuffed to the rails. On the other hand, she had a splitting headache. Suddenly she remembered the sound of glass breaking, the explosion of pain and the sensation of blood running into her vision. Ah yes, the anonymous bottle thrower. Such bravery would CERTAINLY live on in a fairy tale.

She was alone in the hospital room, but she could hear voices out in the hall. Naturally they were the three voices that always seemed to haunt her.

"We wouldn't be running back to the Dark Ages!" Snow White insisted. "Yes, life there was dreadfully primitive compared to the twenty-first century here, but we would make changes! We all still have our memories of our made-up personalities. We're doctors and mechanics and teachers and engineers, Emma. We could make drastic improvements to society."

"Maybe you're right," Emma replied, "but she still made some points out there. Think about it logically. Maybe we have the know-how, but we'd be starting from scratch! No infrastructure, no industry, no electricity. And I hope someone else can spin gold from thread, because it's going to cost of a HELL of a lot of money to pull off."

"Rumpelstiltskin never did share that particular bit of knowledge with anyone," Charming told her calmly, "but we have magic of our own. The fairies and the dwarves - "

"And what the heck was that about with Leroy anyway?" Emma asked. "And someone named Nova?"

Regina could have told her. She'd seen a lot in her mirrors, including many a conversation between Snow and all manner of people, such as the dwarves.

Snow sighed. "Grumpy fell in love with a fairy named Nova, but the Blue Fairy told them that they couldn't be together."

Emma didn't respond at first. "The Blue Fairy, which one is she?"

"That would be the Mother Superior," Charming said.

"Wait, so Nova, that's Sister Astrid, isn't it?"

"Yes," Snow said.

"Because I've seen those two together," Emma said. "They seemed pretty happy to me."

"Only because you came, and things started to change."

"That's not my point, Mary - Snow. Fuck!"

Regina smirked. She supposed mother and daughter hadn't had that talk yet.

"My point," Emma said, sounding irritated, "is that if they go back, won't the Blue Fairy just break them up again?"

"We - hadn't really thought that far ahead," Snow said weakly.

"Jesus Christ!" Emma snapped. "Because that's just the way things are, aren't they? What about the two of you? You'll just go back to being prince and princess?"

"No," Charming said after a moment. "I'll grant the Queen this. We've all lived under an American democracy for three decades. I don't think we can ask the people to return to the old ways. Maybe a constitutional monarchy like they have in England."

"Will that King George guy go along with it?" Emma asked.

"If you'll remember Henry's Book," Snow said, "King George is the man who tried to murder both of us several times. He'll be dealt with."

"How?"

"We always knew something would have to be done about him after the Evil Queen had been taken care of," Charming told her. "There probably would have been war eventually."

"Oh my God," Emma said, her voice sounding muffled. Regina supposed she'd covered her face with her hands. "So that's one more thing to look forward to, the people in this town being asked to strap on their helmets and swords and kill each other like something out of _Braveheart_!"

"Emma - "

"No," Emma interrupted. "This is stupid. I don't care if you can make Regina send us back or not. I don't think we should go. If the Curse is broken, nothing's stopping you from finding your happy ending here in Storybrooke, or anywhere else in America. There's no need for everyone to return to the fifteenth century just so we can reinvent the wheel and start a Crusade!"

"I understand you don't want to leave this place, when it's all you've ever known," Snow White said, "but it's not up to you. It's up to the people of this town whether they want to go back or not. As you say, this is a democracy. Well, I say we put it to the town for a vote. Yea says we try to find a portal back to our home, by whatever means. Nay says we stay here."

"Sounds fair," Emma said coldly. "And you're right, it's not up to me what other people do with their lives. But I still make decisions for myself, and for Henry."

_Henry_, Regina thought suddenly. She wondered where in the hospital they were keeping him, and how hard it would be to escape her cuffs and find him.

"And I'm telling you right now, Henry and I, _we're not going_."

Regina raised an eyebrow. Well, that would go over big with the doting parents.

"_Emma!_" Snow exploded, while Charming was evidently speechless. "We just got you back! We're not going to be separated from you all over again!"

"You wouldn't be," Emma said quietly, "if you stayed too. You've got each other, a daughter, and a grandson. What the hell is so special about Magical Princess Land that you need to be there for?"

Regina snorted, unable to help herself.

Snow and Charming didn't answer. Instead, Emma opened the door and stepped inside. "How long have you been awake?"

She shrugged. "Long enough to hear about Mom and Dad's grand rebuilding projects for Magical Princess Land."

"Spying on us, what a surprise," Snow muttered.

"Hey, you're the ones who stood outside the door to the room you locked me inside of," Regina said more loudly. "I guess I could have covered my ears but . . . " She jangled the handcuffs pointedly.

Emma looked at her parents. "We'll finish this conversation later, somewhere more private. You two should look in on Henry. I'll stay here and watch Regina."

Neither answered at first. "Fine," Snow said heavily. "I'll text you and let you know how he's doing."

"Thanks," Emma said before closing the door once more. She sighed and sat in a chair across from Regina's bed.

"Texting," Regina said dismissively. "One development that Fairy Tale Land may be better off without. Longhand is a dying art here, Ms. Charming."

"Ugh, don't call me that," Emma told her, grimacing. "And anyway, one minute you're telling us all how wonderful modern society is compared to the alternative, and next you're complaining about it."

"I never said it was perfect."

"Hmph. I hope you're going to get off your high horse martyr routine with me, Regina. Because your Curse made MY life a living hell."

"Didn't I say so outside?" Regina asked. "I said that a few people had a right to be angry with me. I'm fairly certain I included you in the list."

"Very generous of you." Emma shook her head. "And regardless of what you may think, you won't die at the hands of a mob. Not in Storybrooke, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"As you yourself pointed out, we live in America. And in America, we have things like rights and laws and a justice system. You'll be tried and convicted, I'm sure, but in a courtroom. And you'll go to prison, not a gallows. But if they take you back . . . "

Regina chuckled. "No Bill of Rights over there, Ms. Swan. No rights at all, really. The lord of the land is also the law of the land. The king or queen has more immunity from prosecution than any American president ever did. If he wants your head - or your maidenhead, for that matter - he just takes it."

Emma looked a little queasy.

"On what charge will you imprison me here, Sheriff?" Regina asked, shifting the subject away from the old world. She had benefited from the old ways herself as Queen, but she found that after twenty-eight years as Mayor of Storybrooke, even she now found absolutist monarchy distasteful. "I don't think there's a law against curses in Maine. Never mind the fact that you lack jurisdiction. Everything bad I did, I did it in Fairy Tale Land."

"How about kidnapping for what you did to Kathryn, obstruction of justice for when you tried to frame Mary-Margaret, and murder?" Emma said calmly. She didn't have to elaborate who the murder victim was.

Regina nodded. "You'll have to prove it."

"I will. And I'm sure I'll come up with plenty of other charges too."

"I look forward to it."

"So do I."

Regina realized that she meant it. She wondered if Emma meant it too.

She bet Emma did.

* * *

Regina was greatly relieved when she learned the next day that even though her injuries had been relatively superficial, Henry had still been released from the hospital first. Her good feelings were, of course, tempered by the knowledge that he hadn't wanted to see her before he left. She held out hope that Ms. Swan simply hadn't told Henry she was there, so as not to worry him. So she was very careful NOT to ask if that was the case.

At any rate, the next afternoon Dr. Whale proclaimed that her injuries should heal without scarring if she followed some simple instructions, and therefore there was no need for her to remain hospitalized. His "bedside manner" had been detached and very professional, which she supposed was the least he could do. It wasn't like she'd changed his life all THAT much. And it seemed that he preferred to keep some of her alterations. It probably wouldn't be wise, after all, if he started telling everyone to call him Dr. Victor Frankenstein. People might think twice about seeking medical attention from someone who _literally _came straight out of a horror novel.

Regina shoved Dr. Whale's instructions in Emma's direction when she arrived. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Doctor's orders on how to clean and re-bandage my head injuries," Regina said, "as well as a prescription for painkillers for Sneezy to fill. I'd go there myself but, well, I already know why that won't be happening."

Emma stared at her. "So you expect me to what, fetch your medicine like I'm Andy Sachs or something?"

"Who?"

"Seriously? _The Devil Wears Prada? _I would have thought that movie would be required viewing at your house." She gestured toward the rotund yellow monstrosity she called a "car". "Let's go, I'm taking you to your house first so we can pick up some clothes and toiletries. Then we can go to the pharmacy TOGETHER."

Regina looked at Emma in horror. "You seriously don't expect me to ride in that butt-ugly deathtrap of yours. We HAVE a police cruiser in Storybrooke, you know. I should know, I authorized the purchase a few years ago."

Emma smiled. "Yeah, I know, normally I'd drive that. But I don't know, I guess I just thought you'd hate being in the backseat of my car more."

"How very _insightful_," Regina said hatefully. "Aren't you going to handcuff me?"

"I don't see you as much of a flight risk. Although if you think you'll be better off on foot with a head injury, surrounded by thousands of people who want to string you up by your heels, feel free to run. You might even reach the border."

Regina folded her arms. "Let's just go. I can't wait to get my incarceration started."

Emma didn't bother to correct her, confirming her suspicions. She WAS under arrest, after all, and being kept in the holding cell would be safest for everyone, including her.

"How is Henry?" Regina asked a minute later, trying to ignore the trash on the floor of the backseat. Trying not to think of all the men who had probably bedded the Sheriff back here over the years. Cheap motel beds were probably more sanitary.

"He's better," Emma said. "He's with his grandparents right now."

That was perhaps the most bitter brew of all. She could take the thought of Henry with Ms. Swan - barely. The thought of her son being cared for by the woman she hated above all others was the worst kind of ulcer.

"He asked about you."

Regina's head snapped up. "He did?"

"Yeah. He figured out for himself that the people here would be out for your blood. Henry asked me to make sure that didn't happen. I don't think he's forgotten what you told him right after he woke up from the sleeping spell."

Suddenly she felt better now than she had since before the Curse broke. Even if the memory of what had happened after Henry ate the apple turnover SHE had baked twisted in her gut like a knife.

"What about the rest of the town?" she asked.

"What ABOUT them? Pretty sure they still hate you."

"Not that. You know I could hear you talking outside my room yesterday. What's the mood out there? Is everyone still demanding a way to get home?"

The Sheriff didn't respond right away. "Hard to say," she finally admitted. "There's probably going to be a public meeting in a day or two. I'm sure that will be one of the topics. One of many."

Regina nodded. They'd better start in the morning, because that meeting would probably run for hours. "Did you mean it, what you said about staying here, no matter what the others decide?"

"At the time, yeah. I'm not 100% sure any more, but probably. Why do you care?"

"I care where _Henry _goes. If, hypothetically speaking of course, I find myself spending the rest of my life in a state penitentiary, then obviously it matters a great deal to me if Henry goes back to Fairy Tale Land forever." Regina paused. "I know my preferences mean nothing to you and the others, but if Henry leaves, I would rather serve my sentence in a dungeon there than a prison here."

Emma stopped at a red light and turned her head to the side. "If you're hypothetically convicted, you mean."

"Yes, of course." Regina could talk a good game, but a Storybrooke jury would convict her of bombing Pearl Harbor if given the chance. Life in a dungeon back in the Enchanted Forest would probably make even a Mexican prison seem like paradise, but her son was all she had left. Take Henry away, and you might as well put her in the gas chamber.

"Then, hypothetically speaking, I'd see what I could do. For our son's sake. Just because Henry feels a certain way about you at ten, doesn't mean he'll feel the same way when he's twenty," Emma said quietly.

Regina nodded. It was a fairer response than Regina might have given in Emma's place. Might have. More like definitely have.

Suddenly the irony struck her. For the foreseeable future, it was possible that Emma would be the closest thing Regina would have to an "ally" in Storybrooke.

This time, she didn't laugh. No telling when Emma might be the one throwing a bottle at her head.

To be continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Regina's day went downhill well before her incarceration.

Before she even saw her home, she saw a dozen people, random citizens, milling about on the sidewalk as if they'd been waiting for her to arrive. Perhaps they had, all it would have taken was one phone call from an observant nurse. They looked a little like the zombies in those silly horror movies that Hollywood insisted on producing, except their dark eyes gazed upon her with hate, not hunger. If they hungered for her blood, it was in the metaphorical sense.

"Fuck," Emma said grimly as she put the car in park. "I'll deal with them. You go on in and . . . "

Regina better understood the lack of direction when she got out and saw the shattered windows. Her front door hung loosely from its hinges, as if her house was an abandoned, derelict structure in a ghost town.

The inside, she knew, would be worse, but she bypassed her front walk and went around to the back. She barely heard Emma asking the others if they knew who had done this, assuring them that Regina would pay for her crimes in court. There was a chance that –

But instead she discovered that the apple tree had been chopped down, hacked into pieces, and apparently set on fire. There was nothing left but a jagged stump, blackened branches, and a few leaves.

She'd lost _everything, _just like when Cora had butchered Daniel before her eyes. For some reason, though, it was the tree that reduced her to tears. Honeycrisp apples, she'd called them, even though anyone who'd ever visited a supermarket produce section would have known they were Red Delicious. For whatever reason, the Curse failed to replicate precisely the Honeycrisp tree from her courtyard. So she'd pretended instead. Who would dare to correct Mayor Mills anyway?

Regina had loved that tree. That didn't make it deserving of retribution. It had been a living thing, and for a pack of howling degenerates to murder it this way . . . so yes, she cried for it, and for everything else.

She heard the back door open, then the sound of Emma's feet. "Here you are."

"Here am I," Regina said.

"None of them admitted to vandalizing your house. I don't think they were lying."

"Of course not. Who would convict them?" Regina wiped her eyes. "Speaking of which, I assume they weren't satisfied by your plans to have me tried by the judicial system?"

She looked at Emma, who was frowning. "No, they weren't," the Sheriff said. "I guess they're looking for something a little more Old Testament."

Regina chuckled without humor. It was an apt analogy, even though the Bible hadn't even existed back in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma might as well have read her mind, because the next words out of her mouth were, "I wonder if there's even a God anymore."

"Pardon?"

"Not that I was ever much of a believer, but I'm pretty sure the Bible never mentioned anything about alternate worlds or fairies or trolls," Emma pointed out.

"That's because we had no religion in Fairy Tale Land," Regina replied. "Nothing like Christianity or Judaism or anything else you'd recognize. Magic was our higher power."

"Did people there believe in some kind of afterlife?"

Regina thought about it for a moment. "Yes, but there was no coherent school of thought that everyone adhered to. Some believed in reincarnation, others in paradise, and still others in Purgatory. Many, however, thought of death as an eternal sleep, which is why such importance was placed on ideas like love and justice."

"I think those ideas are just as important here."

"Yes, of course," Regina said dismissively, "but you also have this concept of people receiving their just rewards, be it Heaven or Hell, after they die. No matter how wealthy or powerful or successful an evil man may be while he's alive, you think he'll burn for eternity when he's dead. Where I came from, however, that concept was not held by many. Therefore, people believed very firmly that the good should find true happiness while they're alive, while the bad should suffer until their death." She looked away. "So you see, when my love was killed, I never expected to see him again, in this life or the next, because I didn't BELIEVE in a next life."

Emma took a second to digest that. "I'm guessing that didn't help how you felt about M… Snow."

Regina snorted. "No, it did not."

"I'm surprised, then, that these people want you dead. I'd think they'd want you to rot in a jail cell for the rest of your life."

"Not to be gruesome, but our civilization had the opposite of an Eighth Amendment. People believed that the guilty _should _be sentenced to cruel and unusual punishment." She smiled. "A great-aunt on my father's side poisoned her husband and stepchild for his fortune before I was born. She was placed alive inside a large barrel filled with venomous snakes, which was then rolled down a _very_ steep hill."

Emma gaped at her in horror. "You're making that up. You want me to believe that so I won't want to live there."

"Read the original Grimm's tales. They're wildly inaccurate at times, but 'dying a miserable death' is a common theme. I believe MY literary counterpart was made to wear iron shoes that had been heated in a forge, and dance until she died. Better yet, ask your parents," Regina said, shrugging. "Or ask the Blue Fairy. I knew her slightly, before, and not only will she tell you it's true, I'll wager she says it would be a fitting end for _me_."

"Yeah. Okay, I will," Emma replied. "Come on, let's go inside and see if we can salvage anything of yours."

It wasn't a pleasant prospect, but Regina couldn't suppress a mean feeling of triumph. She hadn't missed how Emma had winced when she referred to Snow and Charming as her "parents".

* * *

The backyard had been bad. The second floor had been worse. Nearly everything had been ripped, damaged, or vandalized in some way, and it had taken ten minutes for Regina to locate two acceptable changes of clothing in the debris. The bathroom had been flooded and the water sparkled with broken glass from the contents of her medicine cabinet, and she would have to buy the basics at the pharmacy.

Henry's bedroom had been worse still. It had been relatively untouched in terms of physical damage, but it had been plundered of most of his wardrobe and his most prized possessions.

"Who would loot my son's things?" Regina had asked, deeply offended.

"Sorry, um, that was me," Emma had admitted. "I came here yesterday to pack a couple bags for him. None of this had happened yet."

She had seethed, even as rationally she understood that it would have been worse if his things had been stolen or destroyed.

The worst, however, came when Emma and Regina walked out her front entrance and found Kathryn Nolan leaning against the Volkswagen. Regina froze.

"Could you give us a minute, Sheriff?" Kathryn asked calmly.

Emma rested her hand on the butt of her revolver. "I don't think that's a good idea, considering what she did to you."

"I'm not here to kill her."

"It's all right, Sheriff," Regina said. "I'm sure she can find more efficient ways to hurt me without lifting a finger."

Emma frowned and took the bag from Regina's hands. "I'll be in the Bug."

Kathryn approached as Emma passed her, muttering something about how she'd be out of the car in an instant if this became anything uglier than a Survivor season finale. Regina didn't bother to move or speak. The ball was in Kathryn's court. Another day she might have affected indifference, but after what she'd witnessed inside and behind her home, all she could feel was an extreme sense of trepidation.

"Regina," Kathryn said calmly.

"Kat – Abigail."

"No, no, Kathryn will do," the other woman said.

Regina blinked. "You're the first person I've seen who doesn't get angry when called by their fake name."

Kathryn cocked her head. "What's fake about it? For all intents and purposes, Abigail didn't exist after the Curse struck. I _was _Kathryn."

"Which is exactly why I'd think you would want to be Abigail again."

"I'm sorry, I can see this is confusing," Kathryn sighed. "Shall I explain?"

Regina only nodded.

"Yes, I am Abigail," Kathryn went on, "but I'm Kathryn Nolan too. I'm sure the others all want to pretend like that 'other' person never existed, but the fact remains that we lived those lives for twenty-eight years, and to treat those personas as merely a simple illusion is an exercise in futility." She grimaced. "I, on the other hand, understand that some . . . integration of Abigail and Kathryn will be necessary."

This struck Regina as an extremely intelligent response to the breaking of the Curse, but then she'd never thought Kathryn stupid.

"For example, Abigail doesn't really have a bone to pick with you, Regina. Sure, you Cursed me. But it wasn't personal. I was just swept up in your spell along with everyone else," Kathryn said. "Abigail isn't the one who lived the last twenty-eight years. Kathryn did."

She took a step closer. "And Kathryn, Regina?" she said quietly. "Kathryn is fucking _pissed_."

Regina took a step back from the sudden intensity burning in Kathryn's eyes. "Kathryn – "

"I don't even care about the 'happy ending' thing," Kathryn snapped, furious. "I care about the fact that you screwed me over _twice, _and the second time, that was _definitely _personal. It wasn't enough that you trapped me in a marriage that could _never _work? You had to have me _abducted?!_"

"That had nothing to do with you," Regina said quickly. "I was trying – "

"To frame Mary-Margaret Blanchard for murder," Kathryn interrupted. "Murder, Regina. Guess I was never going to come back alive, huh? Might raise a few uncomfortable _questions _if Mary-Margaret was convicted of murder if it turned out I wasn't dead!" She got right up in Regina's face. "Tell me, Regina. At what point were you going to get it over with and have me killed?"

Regina didn't have an answer to that. Not one Kathryn would like, anyway.

"No wonder you don't have too many friends, Regina," Kathryn said. "Not when you don't treat them any better than your enemies."

Considering there was a dead dragon under the library that used to be Maleficent, Regina could hardly dispute that, however much she wanted to.

Hearing a noise, Regina looked up and saw that Emma had gotten out of her car and was approaching them.

"That's enough, Kathryn," Emma said. "You can save it for her future sentencing. I'm sure a jury will want to hear all about it."

Kathryn chuckled. "You honestly think she'll live that long?"

"Is that a threat?" Emma asked coldly.

"More like a prediction," Kathryn replied. She looked back at Regina. "I will _never _forgive you for everything you've done to me, Regina. Know that when you die – and I'm sure that will be soon – you will die as friendless and alone as you have always been."

Raising her chin, Kathryn spun on a heel and marched back down Regina's driveway.

Now _that _was Abigail.

Regina had been insulted and yelled at for decades. The day she was born had been cursed by hundreds. She was used to it by now.

So why was she holding back tears?

* * *

After everything that had happened at her house, what took place next at the pharmacy was oddly anticlimactic.

"Remember," Emma told her, "this is on my dime, so just get whatever's cheapest."

Regina pursed her lips and looked at Emma was wearing. "Yes, _clearly _you haven't been living on much of a budget."

Emma scowled, ripped the prescription out of Regina's hand, and headed toward the drugstore counter.

Regina cursed herself as she went looking for the toiletries. The sheriff was the closest thing she had in this town to a potential ally, and she couldn't hold her tongue around the woman for two minutes? Acting friendly with Emma wouldn't work, she'd see through a charm offensive in a second, but being _civil _might help.

When she returned a few minutes later with a basket filled with the cheapest generic supplies money could buy – well, it wasn't like she had a public image to maintain for voters any longer – she found Emma and Sneezy staring at each other. "Sheriff?" Regina asked for a moment, wondering if Medusa had passed through while she wasn't looking.

Shame if she had. The Gorgon would have been useful.

"Regina," Emma said after another long moment. "Your pills are ready."

"That was fast."

"Haven't had a lot of customers today," Sneezy said sullenly. He turned a look full of frustrated loathing on Regina, as if Emma was the only thing stopping him from leaping over the counter and strangling her.

Regina suddenly realized what she'd missed as she began to take items out of her shopping basket.

"Don't bother," Sneezy sneered. "I don't want your blood money, the Savior's money is no good here, and what good will American currency do me anyway once we return to the Enchanted Forest?"

Emma winced.

"Well," Regina replied, "I can't wait to tell people about all the free toiletries Sneezy the Dwarf gave me. _Such _a good friend."

_That _turned hatred into panic, but Regina didn't bother waiting for a response as she dumped the contents of her basket into an open plastic bag and swept out of the drugstore.

"I see you haven't lost your ability to make friends and influence people," Emma said dryly as she followed behind her.

Regina took the handle of the passenger side door of the Volkswagen in one hand, but didn't open it right away. "He was going to poison me, wasn't he?"

Emma would never be much of a poker player if she couldn't hide her surprise better than that. "How did you hear that?"

"I didn't. But he wasn't exactly looking at you with adoration when I arrived," Regina explained. "It occurred to me that it would be very easy for him to fill my prescription incorrectly."

"Well, I couldn't allow that," Emma said. "If he'd succeeded, I'd be forced to bring _him _before a court instead."

Regina chuckled. "No jury of his peers would _ever _convict him of my death. But I appreciate the principle all the same."

Emma shrugged and headed over to the driver's side door.

"How did YOU know?" Regina thought to ask. "What he was going to do, I mean."

"Like you said, he was fast. Too fast. He got all squirrelly with me when I asked him why, and when I threatened to do a little taste test of my own, he confessed," Emma said casually.

Regina blinked. "How . . . self-sacrificing," she said, surprised.

Emma smiled. "Well, I AM the Savior," she said before getting in the car.

Indeed she was. Very noble of her.

If Regina found some way to inflame the mob against her, she wondered if they'd tear Sheriff Swan apart to get to her.

She'd have to keep that possibility in mind. It might be the one silver lining in all of this.

To be continued . . .


End file.
